


Why Do Demons Sleep?

by thegreatgayjatsby



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cuddling, Fluffy, Grumpy Old Men, M/M, Snuggling, cute boyfriends, sleeping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-16
Updated: 2013-09-16
Packaged: 2017-12-26 19:14:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/969307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatgayjatsby/pseuds/thegreatgayjatsby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crowley and Bobby need a break from dealing with the Apocalypse and the Leviathans. Cuddling ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why Do Demons Sleep?

**Author's Note:**

> They're too cute.

Crowley didn’t know who had let slip the ritual required for summoning demons (maybe it was Ruby?) but it was a damn pain sometimes. Honestly, this was getting ridiculously. He’d been (this week) the third time he’d been summoned by Twiddle Dumb and Twiddle Dee, the Winchesters. But this evening, it was Bobby Singer who had called him.

The demon snapped his fingers; a tumbler full of Craig and a glass appeared on Bobby’s table, and Crowley poured himself a shot. “Good evening, Robert.” He greeted, taking a sip as he took in the Devil’s Trap beneath his feet.

“Crowley.” The mechanic greeted, a surly, tight frown on his face.

Crowley straightened his jacket lapel and took another sip of the Craig. “Is there something you needed?” He asked stiffly, voice colder than usual.

Bobby’s frown melted into a harder scowl. “Nothing.” He stepped forward and scrapped the toe of his boot against the red spray paint on the floor. “Get out.”

The demon gaped for a minute, then stepped out of the Devil’s Trap, into Singer’s personal space. The other backed up, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “I said go. Go on. Get.”

Crowley slowly placed the glass on the table, cracking his knuckles one by one. “Do not address me as if I am nothing but a hound.” He said quietly.

Bobby just glared at him. “Go.”

The movement didn’t even register before the hunter was slammed up against a wall, picture frames rattling and swinging precariously on their hooks. Crowley’s hand fisted in his shirt, holding him roughly in place, eyes dark. “Do. Not. Test. Me.” 

Bobby swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing noticeably. “Alright. Fine. Put me down.”

It took him a moment of hard staring, but eventually, the Scot set Bobby back on his feet, hands smoothing over the front of his rumpled flannel shirt. Bobby slapped his hands away and turned aside, gruff and cold. 

They stood in silence, Crowley’s glass to his lips again, before breaking the quiet. “I’m sorry, love.”

“I ain’t your ‘love’.” Bobby replied softly, voice gentler than it had been. He’d never heard a demon apologize before, especially not Crowley.

“I didn’t mean to...be so aggressive.” He’d never apologized to a human, especially not Bobby Singer.  
“It’s okay.” Bobby found himself saying, the wind knocked relentlessly out of his sails by the tired sounding demon.

Crowley set his Craig down again and sat on the couch, burying his face in his hands and resting his elbows on his knees, hunching into himself. Bobby sat beside him, watching the demon through half-lidded eyes. The exhaustion showed on both of their faces, and it took Crowley a few minutes before looking up. 

“I missed you.” Crowley’s voice was soft, laced with weariness.

“I know. I, uh...missed you too, Crowley.” Bobby replied, reaching out and molding his palm to the curve of Crowley’s jacket.

Crowley’s crisp suit wrinkled as he slipped out of the jacket, resting his head up under Bobby’s chin and burying his face into the other’s chest. “Why did you summon me?” He asked a while later, one leg thrown over Bobby’s thighs.

“Just wanted to see my demon.” Bobby murmured softly. 

Crowley huffed a little and nuzzled into his chest, lips ghosting over his neck. “Just wanted to see my hunter.” His accent grew thick as he drifted off.

Demons didn’t need sleep, but they enjoyed it.

Hunters needed sleep, but Bobby would rather watch Crowley.


End file.
